Missing
by Burning 'Til There's Dark Blue
Summary: Kidnapping is a capital offense. Running away isn't. And if the person who kidnapped Sam thought he was going to get away with it, he was wrong, because one day, Sam would break, and one day, Freddie would find her.
1. Preview

Missing

**Missing**

**Disclaimer: **iCarly belongs to its' creators. All songs mentioned belong to their record labels and singers. Actors and actresses belong to themselves. Some references, like Apple computers and Frito-Lay, are copyrighted or trademarked. Cities don't belong to anybody…I think. There are many characters who are not in the TV show, and they either belong to me or I got them from somewhere else. And I'm pretty sure that all the songs mentioned I have either heard a million times or are on my iPod.

--

_I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine, I got a love and I know that it's all mine._

**In 2 weeks, all their lives will change…**

"_Let go of me!" Sam kicked Jason as hard as she could, but he just held her tighter and continued trying to drag her to the car._

_Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me. Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me._

**Relationships will be tested…**

"I am going to find her, Carly! She's not dead!" Freddie shouted, angry that Carly was doubting Sam's survival. Carly just looked down at her shoes.

_Take me away, a secret place, a sweet escape, take me away! Take me away, to better days, take me away, a hiding place!_

**Journeys will be made…**

Freddie took one last look at Seattle, then continued walking, his backpack heavy on his shoulders.

_I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine, I got a love and I know that it's all mine._

**And their survival will hang in the balance.**

Sam struggled over the chain link fence, desperate to escape the dogs, who were snapping at her ankles.

_Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me. Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me._

**Jennette McCurdy**

The rain poured down on Las Vegas as Sam ran as fast as she could away from the city.

_I got a pocket, a pocketful of sunshine. I got a love and I know that it's all mine._

**Nathan Kress**

Freddie was silhouetted as he walked towards the sunrise, surrounded by the buildings of Seattle.

_Wish that you could, but you're never gonna own me. Do anything you can to control me. (You can't control me. You can't control me!)_

**Miranda Cosgrove**

Carly typed as quickly as she could, trying to figure out where Freddie would have gone.

_Take me away, a secret place, a sweet escape, take me away! Take me away, to better days, take me away, a hiding place!_

**Jerry Trainor**

"This is my fault! I should have been there!" Spencer yelled, kicking the coffee table just as Carly walked downstairs. Carly took one look at him, then walked back upstairs.

_There's a place that I go that nobody knows, where the rivers flow, and I call it home._

**Selena Gomez**

Alex slammed on the brakes, barely missing the person walking in the road.

_And there's no more lies and the darkness is light. And nobody cries, there's only butterflies!_

**Cody Linley**

Jason smiled at Sam from across the hall, trying to get her attention. Sam rolled her eyes and continued talking to Freddie.

_Take me away, a secret place, a sweet escape, take me away! Take me away, to better days, take me away, a hiding place!_

**And Jason Dolley**

Michael ran down the hallway, looking for Carly, holding a newspaper. He tripped and fell, right at her feet.

_Take me away, a secret place, a sweet escape, take me away! Take me away, to better days, take me away, a hiding place! Take me away, a secret place, to better days, take me away! Take me away, to better days, take me away, a hiding place! _

**This is their ultimate test…**

The cell phone broke the silence. Freddie turned on his cell phone and looked at the 5-word message, not recognizing the area code at first, but knowing who it was once he got the text.

"I'm in Vegas. Help me."

_The sun is on my side, and takes me on a ride. I smile up to the sky and know I'll be all right. The sun is on my side, and takes me for a ride. I smile up to the sky, and know I'll be all right._

**Premiering 8/31/08**

--


	2. A Somewhat Ordinary Day

Missing

**Missing**

**Song for Chapter: **_Absolutely (Story of a Girl) _by Nine Days

**Chapter 1: **_A Somewhat Ordinary Day_

The posters advertising the school dance were covering the school. Sam looked at them as she walked down the hallway, wishing that it wasn't such a big deal to everybody. It was just another way the school could get money from everyone. After the fundraiser, though, she thought they would have stopped. That had been a strange incident.

Sam had tied herself to the flagpole and refused to be untied until the fundraiser was over, partly because all they were selling was chocolate and snowman ornaments and because she believed they were just trying to steal hundreds of dollars from innocent kids. After an hour of Sam shouting at the guy running the fundraiser and several kids deciding to join her cause (392) by tying themselves to chairs, street lights, desks, statues, and bookcases, and the rest refusing to do anything for school, the principal finally decided to end it, saying "It was just for a new computer in the library, and we already have 50".

As she got to her locker, she was upset to find at least 12 brightly colored flyers with a bulldog on them saying "Come to the School Dance! It's going to be Fantastic!" plastered on the door. Angrily, she ripped them off and walked over to Gibby, who was busy trying to open his locker.

"Here, Gibby. Happy birthday." Sam handed the papers to him and walked back to her locker. Freddie and Carly had just arrived, and Carly was leaning against the lockers, laughing, as Freddie angrily ripped flyers off his locker. Sam stopped when she saw Freddie's outfit, the reason for Carly's laughing; a red Sesame Street T-shirt, lime green corduroy pants, and yellow flip-flops. Freddie saw her and instantly began attacking his locker, trying to get his jacket out of it. Sam started to say several things, but each time was overcome by laughter. Finally she caught her breath and, still giggling, looked up at Freddie.

"Why are you wearing that outfit?" Sam gasped, still trying not to laugh. Freddie looked upset as he pulled on his jacket, which was extremely large on him, and did not hide his shoes or pants.

"My mom got mad at the outfit I was wearing and forced me to wear this one. It doesn't even fit me! I got the shirt for my birthday as a present from my Uncle Philbert, because he seems to think I'm still 3, and I've tried to explain to him many times that I'm a sophomore now and he has to stop sending me these shirts, especially because they're 3 sizes too small. And these pants were part of my Halloween costume 7 years ago, and they're cutting off the circulation to my legs. And I had to buy these shoes because there was an accident with my other shoes involving a very large dog. Any more questions?" Freddie shouted. Sam started laughing again.

"Your Uncle Philbert? Seriously, dude, you shouldn't be wearing that. Do you need me to run to Target to get you a new outfit? Because I kinda need one too. We have 30 minutes until school starts, so I'll have time. You know what? I'm not even going to ask. Come on." Sam grabbed Freddie's arm and dragged him outside and across the street to Target.

-

Carly stood there, trying to figure out what had happened, when a blonde boy from her history class ran up.

"Hey Carly! Awesome web show Friday. Anyway, I'm Michael, which you probably know. Can you go to the dance with me?" he asked rapidly. Carly stared at him, blinking, until she realized he was serious.

"Um…I guess so." She said, slightly nervous. Michael looked relieved.

"Good, I didn't make a fool of myself. I didn't, did I? Anyway, I'm sorry for the incident yesterday. Is your foot better?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, it only hurt for about 3 hours after you dropped the textbooks on it, but I'm okay now." Carly thought back to the day before, where Michael had decided that textbooks would make great dominoes, and had been lining them all up when he slipped on one and dropped the textbooks he was holding on Carly's foot. Carly smiled at the memory, shook her head, then looked back at Michael, who was opening his locker and taking out random books and several old newspapers.

_Why did I just agree to go out with him? _Carly thought to herself quietly.

-

There were not many people at Target so early in the morning, which made it much easier for Sam to grab the first outfits she saw and throw them at Freddie or keep them for herself. The shoes, however, took some time, because half of them didn't fit, and the ones that fit were either ugly or Freddie hated them. After much arguing, Freddie finally agreed on a pair of black Converse shoes. Grabbing the outfits, Freddie and Sam ran to the checkout lane, and then they both ran to the restrooms to put on their outfits. They made it back to school with 2 minutes to spare.

-

The class had been quiet until Freddie and Sam burst in right as the bell rang, gasping for breath.

"I can explain why we got here so late. Freddie was wearing a hideous outfit and mine was too small, so we had to run to Target and get new clothes. Seriously, you should have seen what he was wearing. Actually, you shouldn't, because he would have gotten jumped." Sam said rapidly. "I saved the receipt as proof, in case you didn't believe us."

"Samantha, a slightly out-of-style outfit is no reason to go to Target right before the bell." Ms. Briggs said angrily. Sam walked up to her and, in a hushed tone, began describing the outfit. Ms. Briggs frown turned to a look of realization, and she nodded. Sam turned around and walked back to her seat, mumbling to herself that Ms. Briggs was crazy and didn't appreciate Iron Maiden t-shirts.

-

Lunchtime came and Sam was staring down her competitor, one hand around a half-gallon of milk. Freddie was sitting one table over, his face in his hands, laughing. Carly was standing next to Sam, holding a towel. Michael – he was Sam's competitor. The bet? Winner got 25, loser had to dump a bucket of chili over their head.

It had started last period, when Michael was talking to Carly about a YouTube video where two kids had made a bet that one of them could drink a half-gallon of milk faster than the other. Both had gotten sick. Sam overheard this and said that she could win that in a heartbeat and not get sick. Michael had said he could. The science teacher said that they would both get sick, but it would be a form of entertainment for the school. The entire class went on a small field trip across the street to Target, where Michael and Sam both bought half a gallon of milk. Rumors quickly flew via text messages and the spoken word, and half of the school showed up - aside from the teachers. Janitors were standing by for safety. The school news crew had cameras and lights surrounding them. Two other kids were timing the incident. The gym teacher stood by the table as they each picked a side to stand on. The hosts of the school news stood nearby, with microphones, commentating on the challenge.

"Face your opponent." The gym teacher's booming voice filled the cafeteria, which was completely silent. Michael and Sam walked to opposite sides of the table, and faced each other.

"Open the milk cartons."

Sam was glaring at Michael, smiling as if to say, "You know I'll win." Michael was glaring just as intensely.

"One, two, three…"

The two raised the milk cartons up to their mouths, ready to start drinking.

"Go!"

Sam and Michael both began drinking as fast as they could. It was almost even at the beginning, but it became obvious very quickly that Sam was winning.

Several different chants filled the cafeteria. Some people were chanting, "Chug, chug, chug!" and the rest were cheering for either Sam or Michael. The majority of the people, it seemed, were cheering for Sam.

One minute and 12 seconds later, Sam slammed the carton down and wiped off her mouth, smiling and cheering. The entire cafeteria began screaming. Michael finished ten seconds later, his face green. Freddie had fallen out of his seat laughing. One of the kids came up with a bucket of chili.

"Would you like to do the honors, Sam?" the kid asked. Sam nodded as she took the bucket and climbed up onto the table. Everyone backed away as she held the bucket as high as she could. Michael had just looked up when Sam dumped the bucket on him. Freddie was now screaming with laughter, Carly was trying to get Freddie to stand up. Sam was doing a victory dance on top of the table. Michael just looked like he would throw up.

"And so, by a whopping 10 seconds, Samantha Puckett wins yet another bet. This should teach a lesson to many of you. Don't bet against Sam, and don't enter a bet that involves chili and/or milk." The host of the school news said. At this time, Michael had walked away, probably to go to the locker room to rinse the chili out of his hair.

Freddie began laughing even harder as Sam got off the table and began to casually eat her lunch.

-

The last bell finally came and everyone began rushing out. Michael was still feeling sick from the milk. Freddie had never really recovered, and was still snickering at odd moments. Carly had decided all three of them were insane. Moreover, Sam had experienced no adverse side effects from the milk, aside from burping –very loudly – during math class, which had made Freddie laugh even harder. All three were now standing outside their lockers, putting some books back and putting more in. Sam and Freddie were deep in a complex conversation regarding what they could have used instead of chili. Carly was leaning against her locker, texting Spencer a message asking if she could go to Burger King. Michael was sitting on the floor, reading the _New York Times._

Sam looked up momentarily and looked across the hall to see Jason Anthony standing by his locker. He saw her looking and smiled. Sam rolled her eyes and went back to talking to Freddie. Jason closed his locker and walked over, still smiling.

"Hey Sam," he said, interrupting the conversation. Freddie and Sam both rolled their eyes and looked at him.

"What do you want?" Sam groaned, trying to sound as frustrated as she could.

"I was just wondering if you could go to the dance with me." Jason was smiling, a hint of something in his face. Sam looked sick, and Freddie was laughing.

"Sam isn't going to go out with you!" Freddie said, still laughing.

"Why?" Jason looked upset now.

"Um… because…" Freddie was now at a loss for words.

"Because I'm going with Freddie!" Sam shouted, without thinking.

"You are?" Jason asked, looking shocked. Freddie looked at Sam, mildly confused, then realized what she was doing and turned to face Jason.

"Yes, she is. Do you have a problem with that? We don't even know you!" Freddie shouted.

"I thought you would be going with Carly. Or did she turn you down again?" Jason said.

"For your information, Carly's going out with Michael." Sam yelled, confused herself, as she slammed the locker shut and picked up her backpack.

"Now go back to the rest of your little popular weirdo friends and leave us alone." Freddie said. Jason looked mad and began to walk away. But halfway down the hall, he turned around and pointed at Sam.

"You will regret this, Sam. I swear, you will regret this moment every minute of the rest of your life!" Jason shouted before turning and running. Sam, Freddie, Carly, and Michael all stared at him.

"You want me to go beat him up?" Michael asked, looking up from his newspaper.

"Michael, can't you think for once? You can't beat him up." Carly sighed.

-

"So, are we seriously going to go to the dance together or was that just something you came up with to scare Jason off?" Freddie asked as he and Sam walked into Burger King with Carly and Michael.

"I don't know. But I don't think we have a choice, because Jason will spread it all over the school that we're going out. Plus, this way, none of the dorks can ask me out and all the girls who for some reason are obsessed with you will leave you alone." Sam said as she turned on her iPod and put the headphones in. A few seconds later, Freddie could hear the bass for _Story of a Girl _playing loudly. Freddie sighed and pulled one of the headphones out of Sam's ear.

"You're going to go deaf!" he shouted. Sam glared at him angrily and put the headphone back in her ear as the four sat down in a booth. They sat talking - except for Sam, who was absorbed in Greenday's music and couldn't hear anything - about the school day and tomorrow's dance. Suddenly Sam looked up, hurriedly put away her iPod, and pulled the hood of her jacket over her head.

" Pretend I'm not here!" Sam whispered loudly as she slouched down, not looking up. Everyone else turned towards the door to see what she was so upset about. In walked Jason and at least eight of the popular kids. Jason quickly spotted the gang and walked over.

"Well look, if it isn't the dorks. Hey Michael, you read anything good in the news lately?" Jason asked sarcastically.

"Yes, actually. I read an article about how football and cheerleading causes a severe loss of brain cells and intelligence. Really good article, actually. They mentioned our school as one of the worst when it comes to intelligent popular kids." Michael said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Jason stared angrily and rolled his eyes, now glaring at Freddie.

"So, dork, you got any new computers, or is that cheap little 1990s computer still working?" Jason had now moved on to attempting to tease Freddie.

"I really wouldn't push it if I were you. The thing about technology is that you can say anything about anyone. So I could tell everyone about that time in third grade where we all tripped you during lunch and you landed in your mashed potatoes. Whoops, too late. I already did." Freddie was smiling, knowing that he had won that round. The rest of Jason's gang was now laughing at him, and Sam was smiling under the hood of her jacket.

Jason bit his lip, trying to think of something to say. Speechless, he just walked away with his group, out the door and down the street.

"So are we going to get food or what?" Sam asked after a minute's silence. Nobody answered, so she just sighed and walked over to the counter.

-

An hour later, Sam found herself walking home. She didn't live as close to downtown as she would have liked, and soon she was in the lower class part of town, filled with old cars, overgrown, junk filled yards, and one story houses that all needed new paint jobs and doors. Looking behind her to make sure nobody was following, Sam walked up to an old blue house. Parked in the cracked driveway was a very rusty red 1988 Ford F350 stick shift, with a lot of junk in the bed. Her 9-year-old brother Kirby was playing in the front yard with their dog, a 2-year-old former stray mutt that Sam had found one day sleeping under her window. The dog, named Jamie after a family friend, was Kirby and Sam's unofficial bodyguard. However, Jamie was mostly Sam's dog. Sam smiled, waved at Kirby, and ran to the front door.

Sam walked in to see her mother in a cleaning frenzy. Confused, Sam put her backpack down and walked into the kitchen, where her mom was busy scrubbing the counter.

"Hey, mom. You know, the counters probably won't stand much more of the Lysol, and I think it's already clean." Sam said cautiously as she sat down at the dining room table and pulled out her homework. Most people thought Sam never did her homework. She did. She tried, at least, but there would be problems that were too hard, and she would get frustrated, give up, and go to Carly's house. It was the same with reading. She was not good when it came to reading. She would try, but something would frustrate her and she'd abandon the book.

Sam was working on her Algebra homework when the doorbell rang. She barely looked up as her mom ran over to the door and opened it. She heard raised voices, then the door slammed. Ms. Puckett walked back in, mumbling to herself.

"Those boys think that they can just walk over here and ask you out. Haven't they learned, Sam?" Ms. Puckett asked, looking at her daughter.

"Well, next time they come, tell them I'm going out with Freddie now." Sam said, pulling out her calculator and typing in a problem. Ms. Puckett's eyes went wide.

"Oh, you're finally dating him? That's fantastic!" Sam's mom was excited now. Sam sighed and went back to the problem, which was, for some reason, excessively complicated. It involved the gallons of gas bought for a car within a month. So far, Sam was at 32 gallons, but she had started thinking about what type of car it was and why they would drive 50 miles every weekday and had gotten confused, texted Freddie asking for help, and had ultimately lost her train of thought.

Somebody knocked on the door again and this time Sam beat her mom to the door. When she opened it, Freddie was standing there, holding his textbook.

"Hey, you texted me and said you were having trouble with math, so I came. Now, what problem was it?" Freddie said. Sam smiled as they walked to the table and sat down, talking about the Milk Chugging Incident and laughing.

Sam was happy. She had Freddie as her date, she had won 25, Kirby was sleeping at a friend's house that night, and she could just relax in her room. It was a perfect day. But all that would change very soon.

-

**A/N: **I'm done. I have a playlist of songs for all the chapters, so the song mentioned at the beginning is the one I think you should listen to while you read the chapter. R&R!

ShadowCatcher


	3. Rebellion, Romance, and Retribution

**Song for Chapter: **_Crushcrushcrush _by Paramore

**Chapter 2: **_Rebellion, Romance, and Retribution_

The stars were shining brightly as dozens of teens, many arm in arm, walked into the gymnasium, talking and laughing. Sam was rushing to the gym, yards behind everyone, hoping that Freddie was already there, according to their elaborate plan. She hadn't wanted him to see her dress until the dance started. Sam suddenly halted, and looked straight up at the stars, which were shining like diamonds and making her jewelry sparkle. There was a sudden, foreboding feeling from the night sky, but she ignored it and continued walking.

Almost everyone except her had entered the gym by that time. As she opened the door, everyone turned to look in her. Freddie turned seconds after everyone, and saw Sam walking towards him. Speechless, he stumbled over his words, trying to tell Sam how she looked. Sam smiled and shook her head.

"Freddie, what's the big deal? So I dressed up for once. That's not so important that you forget how to speak English, right?" Sam said, walking by Freddie to get to the snack table. Freddie suddenly snapped back to the real world and ran to catch up with Sam. He was, and there was no other word for it, spellbound by the way Sam looked. Her hair was pulled back in an elaborate updo, with tinsel braided in, which her mom had probably done for her. Her dress was a sparkling turquoise sleeveless dress cut just above her knees. She was wearing a diamond necklace, which was shining from the onstage lights. Despite the elaborate, beautiful outfit, she had topped it off with Converse shoes. Freddie had to smile at this; it showed that Sam, no matter how elaborate she dressed or how fancy she had to act, would always be down to earth.

They were standing by the snack table, Sam eating her 5th donut, Freddie drinking soda, when Carly and Michael walked up. Michael was wearing a baby blue suit, and Carly was wearing a bright red dress. They both looked happy, and somewhat tired from the dancing. Both looked at Sam, and their eyes fell quickly to her shoes. Sam rolled her eyes at this.

"What is wrong with wearing Converse to a formal event? You can't dance or do anything if you're wearing heels. Plus I didn't have shoes to match this." Sam said, obviously upset that nobody approved of her choice in footwear.

The song stopped and everybody turned towards the DJ, anxious to hear the next song. As the DJ flipped through his CDs, everyone was quiet. Suddenly, Sam was struck by inspiration.

"Play Paramore!" She shouted, breaking the silence. A dozen other kids began shouting in response to the DJ, all screaming song ideas. The DJ pulled out a CD and placed it on the turntable. As music began blasting from the speakers, Sam nearly screamed.

"Oh my god, I love this song. I haven't heard it in forever!" She said, as Carly, Michael, and Freddie all leaned away, covering their ears.

"What song is it?" Freddie asked nervously, prepared to cover his ears again.

"Crushcrushcrush, by Paramore." Sam recited proudly.

Freddie nodded, looking at the ground. Suddenly he snapped up, looking at Sam in confusion.

"Don't you have every Paramore song on your iPod already?" He asked. Sam nodded.

"I do, but my iPod died and I lost the charger cord in an accident involving a pickup truck, a glass bottle, and my little brother. I don't really want to go into detail." Sam explained. Freddie stared at her, confused. How in the world did all of those things connect into losing a stupid charger cord?

"Come on, Freddie. I want to dance. I love this song!" Sam dragged Freddie away from the snack table, leaving a dumbstruck Carly and a very hungry Michael. Carly turned to say something to Michael about Sam and Freddie, just to find Michael not paying any attention whatsoever and eating a very large slice of pizza, topped with some unidentifiable meat and vegetables.

"Michael, what is on that pizza?" Carly asked, slightly disgusted. Michael looked down at the pizza slice.

"I'm not really sure. I think it's sausage." Michael said.

"Michael, it's purple. Sausage isn't purple." Carly replied. Both of them stared at the pizza. Michael slowly walked over to the trash can, dropped the pizza slice in, and slowly backed away.

"I'm not really comfortable with eating anything I can't identify." Michael told Carly, who looked a bit ill. Michael slowly backed away from the snack table.

"You know, I don't think I'm hungry anymore." Michael said, looking slightly green.

The two turned to watch Freddie and Sam. Freddie wasn't really moving, but Sam seemed to be having a lot of fun dancing crazily. Carly shook her head and smiled. Sam was and never would be normal at formal events, or anywhere else for that matter.

oOo

Sam walked out of the gym, yet again, after everyone else, completely exhausted. She had long since ditched her dress for the clothes she had left in her gym locker, and was now carrying the dress in one hand. Almost all the cars in the parking lot were gone, except for one, at the far corner. Sam froze. It was an old junker car, a 1964 Oldsmobile, probably rusty red. She had seen a car like that in Seattle before.

To add to Sam's suspicion, somebody in a tux was leaning against the side of the car. In the dim light, Sam couldn't tell who it was, but she could tell the person was young, probably 18 or 19. The person began walking towards her, quickly. Sam took a step back and quickly looked around. Everybody had left. When she looked back, the figure was an arm's length away. She could now see that it was none other than Jason.

Sam began running back towards the gym, but before she could even take two steps, Jason grabbed both her arms. Sam slipped from the sudden stop in velocity and fell to her knees. Unsure of what to do, she began fighting back.

"Let go of me!" Sam kicked Jason as hard as she could, but he just held her tighter and continued trying to drag her to the car.

"Freddie!" Sam screamed, before a wet rag was forced over her mouth. The scent of chloroform wafted into her lungs.

_Aw, crap, _Sam thought as everything faded to black.

oOo

Freddie couldn't help but smile as he walked back to his apartment. It had been fun, that night. Sam had worn herself out dancing by about the 17th song, and had spent the rest of the night walking around, talking to people. Freddie and her had eventually ended the night tackling Gibby, who had taken the last donut. Freddie had then left, because he was worried his mom would get nervous if he was out past 11. Sam, however, had stayed, partly because she wasn't going to walk home wearing a dress and partly because there was still food on the snack table.

He was almost to the apartment complex when the first car he had seen since he left sped past, an old junker car. As it was briefly illuminated by the street light, Freddie saw it was Jason driving, and there was someone who looked very familiar in the front seat, and they seemed to be unconscious.

But who was it?

Freddie brushed it off and walked into the building, ignoring Lewbert's shouting. Jason was probably just driving his date home. But why did his date look so familiar? Who was she? It was too much to think about down here. Freddie stepped into the elevator and pressed the Level 31 button. The elevator was empty, except for a lone pair of soaking wet Converse shoes in the corner. Sam's soaking wet Converse shoes. She had said that she took them off because she had to run through a puddle to get across the street. They had then proceeded to do iCarly, with Sam barefoot and wearing Hot Topic clothes and Carly actually wearing shoes and Aéropostale clothes. Several of the reviews had been asking about their extreme difference in fashion that night.

Freddie picked up the shoes as the elevator arrived at his floor, thinking that he could give them back to Sam next time he saw her.

Walking to his door, holding the Converses, Freddie suddenly realized why the person in the passenger seat of Jason's car looked so familiar.

It had been Sam.

Jason had kidnapped his best friend!

oOo

Carly was sitting on her couch, watching Cartoon Network, when somebody started pounding on the door and ringing the doorbell frantically. Thinking it was Spencer, who had left a few minutes ago to get dinner, and who had probably forgotten his key, she got up, not bothering to turn off the TV. However, when she opened it, there stood a very distraught looking Freddie, who was holding a pair of very wet shoes in one hand.

"Freddie? Why aren't you home? Why are you…?" Carly couldn't finish, because Freddie burst in, dropped the shoes by the door, and grabbed Carly's iPhone off the coffee table and began frantically dialing.

"Don't you have your own cell phone? Carly asked, as Freddie stood, shaking one wrist frantically.

"Who are you calling?" Carly asked, but Freddie didn't listen.

"Hello? Sam? Jason, why did you answer Sam's phone? Where are you? What? Why are you going to Vegas? What? No! You turn around and leave Sam at her home! I DON'T HAVE THAT MUCH FRIGGING MONEY! YOU DO NOT TOUCH MY GIRLFRIEND! I WILL TRACK YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU IF YOU DO! JASON! DON'T YOU HANG UP ON ME! YOU LEAVE SAM ALONE! JASON!"

Freddie looked extremely angry as he hung up the phone and put it back on the table. He stood up, frowning, staring at the wall with an "I'm going to kill this guy" look on his face.

"Freddie, why were you shouting? Why were you talking to Jason? Why did Jason have Sam's phone? Freddie, why aren't you answering me?" Carly asked, scared at Freddie's outburst. Freddie looked at Carly, rage brimming in his eyes.

"You know what? I'm going to track down Jason, and I am going to kill that bitch. He kidnapped Sam and is taking her to Vegas. I don't know why, but he said something about his brother going to die soon." Freddie said.

"Shouldn't you call the cops first?" Carly asked.

"You make a very good point." Freddie replied. He picked up the phone and quickly dialed 911.

"Yes, 911? Yes. This is Freddie Benson…yes, the one from iCarly, and my girlfriend's just been kidnapped. No, I'm not talking about Carly. I'm talking about SAM!"

Pause.

" I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR QUESTIONS! A PSYCHOTIC MURDERER FROM MY SCHOOL KIDNAPPED MY GIRLFRIEND AND YOU THINK YOU CAN SPEND ALL THIS TIME ASKING QUESTIONS?! NO, I DO NOT HAVE SCHIZOPHRENIA! WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?!"

Pause.

"NO, I DID NOT GET THE LICENSE PLATE! I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE WHAT HAPPENED UNTIL A MINUTE AGO!"

Pause.

"I DO NOT NEED TO WAIT 24 HOURS TO FILE A FRIGGING MISSING PERSONS REPORT! NOW I WANT EVERY SQUAD CAR AND THE FBI AFTER THAT GUY! STOP ASKING QUESTIONS! IT'S A RED 1964 OLDSMOBILE AND IT SHOULD BE REGISTERED TO JASON ANTHONY UNLESS HE KIDNAPPED THE CAR TOO!"

Pause.

"I DON'T KNOW HOW A CAR COULD BE KIDNAPPED! LOOK UP THE CAR ALREADY!"

Pause.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T HAVE ACCESS TO THE DMV RECORDS? I CAN GET ON TO THEM FROM ANY COMPUTER! NOW LOOK UP THE CAR!"

Pause.

"I TOLD YOU BEFORE, I DO NOT HAVE SCHIZOPHRENIA! JUST LOOK IT UP! WHAT? FINALLY! THANK YOU!"

Freddie hung up the phone and fell down onto the couch. Carly looked at him, sadly, and slowly walked upstairs.

Freddie didn't even notice the tears that had started running down his face.


	4. Lost

**Song for Chapter: **_Hemorrhage _by Fuel

**Chapter 3: **_Lost_

_Oh, my head hurts, _Sam thought as she gradually came to. The first thing she noticed was that she was in a car that was going extremely fast. The second thing she noticed was that the car was not hers.

_Where am I? _She thought, opening her eyes. Ahead of her was a desert highway. She looked at the clock. 5:45 in the morning. Why was she in a car that early?

She looked next to her to see Jason driving and suddenly the memories of the night before flooded her mind. She screamed.

"Gyaah! Jason, where are we? Why am I in your car? WHY ARE WE IN A DESERT?" Sam shouted, very upset. She began looking for her cell phone, planning on calling Freddie.

"WHERE DID YOU PUT MY CELL PHONE?!" She shouted. Jason looked at her, smiled, and held up the blue Samsung flip phone she had gotten from her mom. Sam reached for it, but Jason put it in his pocket. Sam continued to try and get to the phone, but she then realized that she would probably crash the car. That would be better than being kidnapped and lost somewhere in the desert, though. Where was she? Sam looked at the side of the road. A California seatbelt sign passed by.

"WHY ARE WE IN CALIFORNIA?! WHERE ARE WE GOING?! I WANT TO GO HOME!" Sam screamed. Jason laughed.

"We're going to the city of neon lights and casinos." He said.

"Tokyo? Why are we going to TOKYO?" Sam shouted. Jason frowned.

"No, we are not going to Tokyo. I meant Vegas!"

"Vegas is where all the crazy people are!"

"Exactly. We'll fit right in. Because, no offense, you look like crap right now."

"No I don't!"

"You obviously haven't been in a mirror."

"You look worse, either way!"

"Do you realize who you're arguing with?"

"Yes! I'm arguing with a sociopathic kidnapper/murderer/who knows what else and I'm in a junky old car going to the city with all the schizos and you're asking me why I'm arguing!" Sam shouted. Jason rolled his eyes as Sam began fighting her seatbelt again.

"And if we're going to Vegas, why are we in California?" she added, after seeing another California sign.

"We crossed the state line about 4 hours ago. We're right next to Death Valley." Jason said.

"Why are we near Death Valley? I DON'T WANNA DIE IN A VALLEY! I WANNA DIE IN A FREAK TRACTOR ACCIDENT!" Sam shouted. Jason looked like he was reconsidering his choice. Realizing that he wasn't going to have a moment of silence as long as Sam was awake, he quickly grabbed the side of her neck. In 3 seconds, she was unconscious.

"I am so glad I learned that." He said, laughing. Sam mumbled something in her sleep.

oOo

"Carly, your cell phone ran out of batteries!" Freddie shouted, waving the iPhone around angrily. He had been on the phone with the Nevada Department of Motor Vehicles, telling them that if they saw an Oldsmobile with a Washington License plate being driven by a teen to pull them over and arrest them. Right as the DMV was asking him if he was schizophrenic, after a long explanation, the phone had cut off.

It was 5:48 in the morning, and Freddie was extremely upset. He had made dozens of phone calls in the past 6 hours. At about 1:30, his mom had come over to try and take him home, but he had flipped out, calling her "An overprotective bipolar schizophrenic super-paranoid psycho who cared only about her own wants and thought he was still 2". His mom had looked upset, then ran out of the room crying. Carly and Spencer both stared at him in shock. Freddie had quickly gone back to making more phone calls.

Something in his mind was telling him he needed to go find Sam himself, but he didn't want to. Not until he got his driver's license. He had a brief memory of Sam crashing the Driver's Ed car at school after doing extremely bad. The only problem with the crash, though, was that she crashed into the principal's car. Sam had repeatedly hit her head on the steering wheel while the Driver's Ed guy wrote something down. Obviously, she had failed. Sam was, no doubt about it, the worst driver in the universe.

The sight of her stepping out of the car, blonde hair a mess, turquoise eyes shining with fear and embarrassment, face red, it had stayed with him all this time. He wished he could see her face again like it had been at the dance, her eyes sparkling with happiness, looking more beautiful than she had ever looked.

Damn, he missed her.

oOo

Sam sat in the front seat of the car, staring as they passed through desert. Her thoughts were racing, but one was dominant.

She was going to escape from Jason.

She was going to get back to Freddie.

And she was not going to give up.

oOo

**A/N: **I have writer's block, I'm sorry. That's why this chapter is so short. R&R!


	5. Mild State of Paranoia

**Song for Chapter: **_Missing_ by Evanescence

**Chapter 4: **_Mild State of Paranoia_

Freddie sat in his room, back up against the wall, as far away from the door and the window as he could get. It was dark in his room, and shadowed, but he didn't want to speak to the reporters. They had been asking him so many questions that day, all about what he felt about it, and finally he had just walked away. What did _they _know about a missing person? Aside from all their _"This person is assumed to be dead" _and _"There is no idea to the location of this person" _crap, they didn't know anything.

He looked at the window as the lights for the shopping complex half a mile away turned off. He glanced at the digital alarm clock lying on his nightstand. 6:15 A.M.. The sun had started to come up across the lake, and the sky was illuminated at the horizon with reds and blues and purples. A faint sliver of liquid gold could be seen. Above this plethora of colors was the night sky, dark as coal, stars beginning to fade. It had been 7 hours since Sam had gone missing.

He was depressed, and that was clouding his thoughts. Why did they think he was going to go to school when someone he had known for years had been kidnapped? Who knew how many of Jason's crowd were going to be teasing him? Freddie looked at the carpet. Sam's shoes were still sitting next to him, and they had finally dried off. He picked one up and carefully took the shoelace out. Amazing how it remained pure white after all the dirt and grass Sam had ran through, and after all the things she had drawn on the toes. How did something that came in contact with all of that remain perfect?

Freddie was suddenly struck with more memories. All the things Sam had said about her mom and her family. The rusty pickup truck. Her mom constantly miserable. Almost every family member in jail. Her 5-year-old cell phone. Her house with its boarded-up windows and the peeling paint, the one his mom didn't want him to go to because it was in the slums. It all made sense now.

Freddie got up and put the shoelace in his pocket. He grabbed his own shoes and pulled them on. He had to ask Sam's mom something, and he would figure it out sometime while he was running. Stumbling, he ran out the door and sprinted to the elevator.

It was the only way he was going to find her.

oOo

Vegas was a lot worse than it was portrayed. Behind all the neon lights and casinos, it was actually horrible. Sam sat in the front seat of the car, trying to figure out how to get away. They had been there for about 30 minutes, and Jason was driving around trying to find a hotel. How was it that they were in Vegas, and they couldn't even find a hotel that would let them stay?

Jason got back in the Oldsmobile and drove into the parking lot of a shabby, run-down motel that looked like it could really use an exterminator and a few cops going through it. Sam looked at him, hate in her eyes. He actually thought he was going to get away with this. All she had to do was grab decent clothes and steal his money, steal the car, and go back to Seattle. Simple as that. She wondered if they knew she was gone yet. Probably. She sank down lower in her seat, arms crossed, and looked out the window at the sunrise.

"You're upset." Jason said.

"No, duh! I was kidnapped by a schizo."

"How many times do I have to tell you I am not a schizo before you accept it?"

"I am not accepting it. Either way, you're still a psychotic stalker who decided to kidnap the girl who wouldn't go out with him and is probably going to kill her." Sam said, a false note of over-eagerness in her voice. Jason rolled his eyes and parked the car. He got out and slammed the door, then walked over to Sam's side of the car and opened the door.

"Get out." He said. Sam rolled her eyes.

"Make me." She retorted. Jason grabbed her hair and dragged her out. Sam winced. She really had to cut her hair short. People kept dragging her around by it. And now her kidnapper was dragging her into a run-down motel by her hair.

The room was small. A bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a TV were all that furnished the main room. On the far side of the room was a sink and a door that probably led to the bathroom. It smelled horrible, like cheap perfume, cigarette smoke, fast food, and a bunch of other stuff Sam couldn't name at the moment.

She wasn't sure why she tried to run at that particular moment, but she never made it past the door. Jason grabbed her and dragged her back in, shutting the door behind him.

Her screams from him hitting her woke everybody in the motel that morning.


	6. Inside the City Streets

**Song for Chapter: **_You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring_

**Chapter 5: **_Inside the City Streets_

Freddie sat in the chair at school, trying to pay attention to his teacher, but looking at the calendar. It had been exactly one year since Sam had disappeared. The police had turned up nothing, and the reporters treated it like Casey and Caylee Anthony all over again, blaming Sam's mom. Freddie sighed, picturing Sam. He found himself drawing on his notebook. Since Sam had been kidnapped, he had decided to take up something besides technology, and had been going to a ton of art classes. His teachers called him "Gifted Beyond Reason", and he wasn't sure if this was good or bad. Currently, he was drawing Sam on the night of the dance.

Suddenly he noticed everybody looking at him, waiting for the answer to the question the teacher had asked. Looking at the problem on the board, he quickly replied "X=17 squared." Stupid Calculus. When would he ever need it? He quickly went back to his drawing.

The bell rang and he threw everything into his backpack, rushing out of class. The teacher, Mrs. Bell, stopped him.

"Freddie, may I speak to you?" The rest of the classmates let out unanimous "Oooooooooooooh!" as if they thought he had done something wrong. Freddie sighed. He just wanted to get home.

"You all leave!" Mrs. Bell shouted. Everybody scurried out. Freddie tried to merge with the crowd, but failed.

"Freddie, you've missed 45 homework assignments this past semester. Do you have an explanation?" Freddie shook his head.

"When are you going to admit that your girlfriend isn't coming back?" she asked. Freddie looked at his shoes.

"When they find her body." He walked out before Mrs. Bell could say anything, and quickly caught up to Carly and Michael, who were still going out.

"Mrs. Bell still mad at you for spending more time on all those drawings than your homework?" Michael asked, reading the _Las Vegas Times._ Carly rolled her eyes.

"When are you ever going to let any of us see those pictures that you're so obsessed with?" she asked. Nobody expected what happened next. Freddie pulled open his locker, not even bothering to use the combination lock, and pulled out a giant stack of papers, throwing them on the ground. Most of them were pictures of a 15-year-old blonde girl wearing a blue dress. _Sam. _Freddie picked them up and spun to face his so-called friends.

"I'm sick and tired of you all thinking that I'm more obsessed with than homework. This is the only way I can remember Sam, and you all want me to stop? When was the last time you even thought of her, Carly?" He shouted. Carly looked frightened. "Or you, Michael? Or are you too obsessed with those newspapers than her? It's like you think she's not even in existence anymore. Carly, you said yourself that she was probably dead and that I'd never find her. You know what? That's too bad. I am going to find her, Carly! She's not dead!" Freddie shouted, angry that Carly was doubting Sam's survival. Carly just looked down at her shoes.

Freddie didn't say anything else. He just turned and stormed off, pushing several people who were in his way out of his path. As he walked out onto the sidewalk, he couldn't help think of that day over a year ago, running frantically back from Target. Sam had been so happy.

Suddenly he stopped, throwing his backpack down. He pulled out all the pictures and then a lighter which he had found on the street.

"This is not the way to solve anything! Drawings aren't the real thing." He set the pictures on fire, watching as they curled up, burnt, anger flowing through his veins. Throwing the burning pictures onto the ground, he began running, as fast as he could, towards the park. Falling onto a bench, he sat, shuddering at the sudden realization of what he had just done.

All was silent. Even the birds were quiet. Freddie looked towards the sun, letting the hot rays bake his face. Anger and frustration filled his veins. The sun slowly drifted down, illuminating the skyline briefly before disappearing. Sunsets. How were they so beautiful, but so painful at the same time? He sat there in silence, thinking.

His cell phone broke the silence. Freddie turned on his cell phone and looked at the 5-word message, not recognizing the area code at first, but knowing who it was once he got the text.

_"I'm in Vegas. Help me."_

oOo

Spencer sat on his couch, watching TV. The 40-year-old newscaster was standing in front of the Puckett home yet again, as Sam's mom was cursing out the police officers.

_"As you can see, the police have taken Elizabeth Puckett into custody once more, for suspicion that she has something to do with the kidnapping of Samantha Puckett, who has been missing for…"_ the blonde newscaster never got to finish her sentence, because Spencer turned the TV off.

"It's all my fault." Spencer said. "If I had only listened to Carly. If I had actually been there to help out. This is all my fault." Spencer stood up. "This is my fault! I should have been there!" Spencer yelled, kicking the coffee table just as Carly walked downstairs. Carly took one look at him, then walked back upstairs.

Spencer picked up the picture of the four of them, on the set of iCarly. They were smiling, laughing. Angrily he threw it down, shattering the glass frame.

Nothing would be the same ever again.

oOo

Sam bit her lip, faking a smile as they walked into the restaurant, Jason grasping her hand in what to most people would seem normal, but was actually to make sure she didn't run. Jason led her to a table and they sat down.

After a moment of dead silence, Sam finally stood up.

"I'm going to go fix my makeup. It looks horrible." Sam got up and walked away quickly. Jason didn't stop her as she slipped around the wall. She headed straight for the door, and began running.

It was hard to run in the shoes she had on: blue heels that were obviously stolen and several sizes too small. But Sam managed it.

She burst into the door of the motel, which Jason had left unlocked, and quickly looked around. She had to work fast, or Jason would find her. Sam spotted a pocketknife on the dresser. Why is there a knife? She asked herself as she picked it up. Quickly she gathered her hair into a ponytail, and without another thought, cut it as close as she could to her head. Quickly she grabbed Jason's hair gel – he insisted on making sure his hair looked good – and the black hair dye that he had been using, and ran into the bathroom. 15 minutes later, she came back out with coal-black hair that was spiked up in the back. He wouldn't find her now.

Sam attacked his closet next. Since they practically lived in the hotel, he had thrown all his clothes into the "closet." Grabbing one of his vintage concert t-shirts and black, baggy jeans, she spun around to the mirror, looking at herself. The dress she had been wearing was now covered with streaks of black hair dye. Considering she would never wear it again, that was fine. She ripped off the dress – literally – and pulled on his clothes. They were about 5 sizes too big, but who cared? When you were running away from a sociopath, size didn't matter. Sam picked up his pair of extremely worn Converse shoes and pulled them on, realizing too late that they were too big. Yet again, who cared? She smiled. Now all she had to do was wait. Quietly, Sam slipped the pocketknife into her pocket and went to hide by the door.

Less than 5 minutes later, Jason walked in.

"Sammie?" he asked with false curiosity. "What did I tell you about running away?" He walked forward a few steps.

Sam lunged, tackling him. Before he could protest, she picked up a lamp and smashed it over his head, knocking him unconscious. He was still holding his car keys and wallet, and she pulled them both out of his hand. Looking through the wallet, she saw what she was looking for – $3500 in cash. Perfect. Sam grabbed his jacket, lying on a chair, pulled it on, and ran out, straight to the Oldsmobile.

This would have seemed like a stroke of luck, if you didn't count the fact that this was Vegas and Sam couldn't drive. She got less than 5 yards before crashing into a light post. The car alarm went off, and as people began shouting and trying to open the door, Sam kicked the car door open and sprinted away.

A mile away, she realized how exhausted she really was. A 13-year-old teenage girl walked by, chattering away on her cell phone. She stopped as she saw Sam, who probably looked homeless.

"Can I borrow your phone?" Sam asked, desperation in her voice. The girl looked at her.

"Who are you?" the girl asked. Sam took a deep breath.

"My name is Samantha Elizabeth Puckett. One year ago, I was kidnapped from Seattle and taken here. The majority of the US population thinks me dead. 35 minutes ago, I escaped from my captor." The girl stared at Sam.

"But Samantha Puckett was blonde."

"I dyed my hair! See?" She held up her hair, revealing where the hair dye had streaked down her neck, and the blonde roots underneath most of her hair.

The girl stood, looking at Sam for any hint of dishonesty. Finding none, she reluctantly handed the cell phone over. Sam held it, struggling to remember at least one phone number. Finally, one drifted into her mind and she quickly wrote a text and hit the "Send" button. She handed the cell phone back to the girl.

"Thank you." Sam whispered, before running.

oOo

Sam had ended up in the ghettos. Quietly she stalked through the shadows, jumping behind bushes at every noise. Despite the fact that Jason was probably still unconscious, she was extremely jumpy.

Suddenly she heard voices behind her, talking rapidly in Spanish. She dove behind a bush and listened.

_"¿Quién es esa muchacha para arriba a continuación con toda la ropa oscura? No la he visto aquí antes."_

_"Ella es un fugitivo, probablemente. Es quizá esa muchacha que fue a faltar hace un año, Samantha Puckett. Debemos ir le preguntamos."_

_How do they know my name?_ Sam thought. But the men started talking again.

_"¡No, esa muchacha era rubia! Éste es morena."_

The men walked past, still arguing. Sam looked out.

"Oi!" One of them shouted, running towards her. Sam bolted, running as fast as she could. They were gaining on her, so she spun around a corner and cut into a yard, jumping over the chain link fence, before they could see her. Leaning against the fence, she took a deep breath.

Suddenly she heard growling. She looked up to see three Rottweilers, looking very angry and hungry. Sam froze, trying to remember what to do. If she ran, they'd attack, but if she didn't…

The dogs suddenly lunged and Sam jumped over them, running to the other side of the yard. They cornered her against it and she grabbed the metal. One of them bit down hard on her shoe, and another on her jeans. Kicking, Sam struggled over the chain link fence, desperate to escape the dogs, who were snapping at her ankles. Finally, she jumped over. Something cold and wet hit her head. Rain. Since when did it rain in Vegas? Ah, well. Better to hide in.

oOo

Freddie threw everything he could into his backpack, ecstatically happy. Sam was alive! All of his torment had a reason. He smiled as he put his cell phone back in his pocket.

oOo

The rain poured down on Las Vegas as Sam ran as fast as she could away from the city. Her Converse pounded on the cement. This was her escape. All she had to do was lie her way through Nevada.

oOo

The moon was half full, and shining over the outskirts of Las Vegas. The car, a Koenigsegg CCX, the fastest street-legal car in America, to be exact, drove along the empty road, going 35 miles above the posted speed limit.

"Yes, Mom. I'm on my way back."

The only noise in the car was coming from Alex, and her iPhone, which she was busily talking on.

"No, Mom, I did not drink anything at the party."

"Yes, Mom, I didn't talk to any boys except for Ben."

"Why are you bringing that up?"

"Mom, I have to go already. I'm on the highway."

With that, Alex hung up her phone and put it back in her purse. She had mastered taking stuff out and putting stuff back in her purse without taking her eyes off the road. She sighed and continued to drive, slowing down as she saw a police car up ahead, driving southbound back towards Vegas. Probably stopping the party, Alex thought. She had left once people had started to act insane, not wanting to get in trouble. Suddenly, she saw a silhouette, faintly illuminated by the streetlight. She slammed on the brakes. The silhouette turned. It was a girl with short, raven hair and icy blue eyes.

"Dude! What are you thinking? You're gonna get hit by a car!" Alex shouted.

"Look, I don't care about that. I just escaped a kidnapper who's probably gonna wake up from unconsciousness soon if he hasn't already, and he's gonna be pissed that I stole his car, he's gonna find me and try to kill me!" the girl shrieked.

"Who are you?" Alex replied.

"Samantha Elizabeth Puckett, and before you ask, I dyed my hair black so Jason couldn't find me."

Alex stared at the girl. Despite the fact that Sam was 5'3", and Alex was 5'8", Alex still felt like the girl could beat her in a fight.

"Please." Sam asked, desperation in her voice. Alex thought momentarily.

The sound of a far off car snapped her out of it. Both girls looked up to see a rusty red Oldsmobile with a very dented fender driving towards them.

"That's him!" Sam shouted.

"Get in." Alex pushed the girl into the front seat, slamming the door. She then jumped in herself, pulled her seatbelt on, and motioned for Sam to do the same.

"Why aren't you driving?" Sam was panicked now. But before she could say anything, Alex got a look of insanity on her face.

"What's the maximum speed limit that car can go?" Alex asked.

"Um…60, I think."

"This should be fun."

"Why aren't you driving? He's only a few yards beh…HOLY CRAP!"

The Koenigsegg CCX is a high performance Swedish sports car. It has a maximum speed of 259 miles per hour, making it the fastest street legal car in the world. At speeds as high as this, it can get up to 3G forces, which if you aren't used to it, can cause a lot of pain. And Alex had just floored it.

"TRY CATCHING US NOW!" Alex shouted over the roar of the engine. Sam's eyes were double their normal size. Alex laughed.

"TO SEATTLE!"

oOo

Freddie was silhouetted as he walked towards the sunrise, surrounded by the buildings of Seattle. He took one last look at Seattle, then continued walking, his backpack heavy on his shoulders.

He was going to find Sam.

Even if he died trying.

oOo

**A/N: **I brought back Missing! Yay! REVIEW!


	7. I Have No Idea

**Song for Chapter: **_Pocketful of Sunshine, by Natasha Bedingfield_

**Chapter 6: **_I Have No Idea…_

_*_

_One Week Later…_

_*_

The boy walked into the restaurant on the outskirts of Carson City, Nevada, at about sunrise, looking famished. His hair hung down to his neck, but was pulled into a messy ponytail. He had chocolate brown eyes with a minute spark of hope, eyes of a boy who had grown up too fast. He was about 5'8", a medium build, and somewhat muscular. There was a faint scar on his head from some long-ago injury. He had shadows under his eyes, looking as if he hadn't had any sleep in the past week. The car he had gotten out of was a dark blue '95 Chevrolet Monte Carlo with Washington license plates, a bumper sticker from the National Hotline for Missing or Exploited Children, and a dent in the front fender. He wore black cargo jeans, worn out Converse, a torn Iron Maiden vintage concert t-shirt, fingerless leather gloves, a leather biker jacket, and several silver dog tags.

The cashier, a girl of about 15, giggled as he opened his wallet, pulling out 20 dollars. The driver's license he was carrying showed a picture of him, his hair out of the ponytail, his head tilted just slightly up. The name on the glossy plastic card read Frederick Allen Brownstone. If you had picked up the license and studied it for a bit, looked for the typical hologram on all Washington issued driver's licenses, you probably wouldn't have seen it. But it was there, on the flawless card.

The boy had changed his name a long time ago, thanks to his mother and his best friend's military connections, all who said they should stay out of the media buzz and choose more inconspicuous names, as long as they sounded very similar. It was close to a witness protection program, but the new names were so close to the old ones that nobody would have guessed.

There was a man in the back who looked 80 years old. Truth be told, he was. He had his glasses on the edge of his nose, and he had a striking resemblance to the late Johnny Cash. He had battle scars on his face, and he leaned over the table, reading the newspaper, a steaming cup of coffee by his hand. He looked up at the boy who had just walked in, who was now walking to the table next to his. He watched as the boy sat down, spread his breakfast out, and began eating quick, humongous bites. The boy finished in about 5 minutes, got up with the empty bag, threw it in the trash can, then returned to his seat, wiping his hands off on his jeans. He sat down and pulled out his wallet, then began flipping through pictures. He stopped at the picture of two people at a prom night with their arms around each other, a petite blonde girl with a sparkling blue dress, and a taller boy with shortly cropped brown hair. The boy looked at the picture for several minutes, then closed the wallet, sighing.

"That your girl?" The man asked, curious as to why this boy, who couldn't be over 20, was staring at the picture as if he was a widowed veteran who had lost his wife several decades earlier. The boy looked up and stared straight into the aged blue eyes of the man.

"Yes it is. She went missing a couple years back and I haven't seen her since." The boy brushed one of his bangs out of his face. Without an invitation, but knowing the man wouldn't protest, the boy got up, picked up his drink, and went to sit across from the aged man.

"I lost my girl years ago." The man said. The boy settled in, ready for any story this man was prepared to tell. The man smiled crookedly.

"It was the summer of 1940. I was 17 years old, a wild and reckless young man, the only son to a poor rancher. I grew up surrounded by my sisters, so my father relied on me more than anyone. I walked into town one day to buy food, and she was there in the store, all blue eyes and blonde curls, wearing this pretty little blue dress. You should have seen the way she looked at me when I walked in, wearing my dusty old hand-me-down overalls and my pop's flannel shirt, and my hat and boots. She didn't like me when she first saw me. To her I was an outsider, not good enough to be among her folk. Eventually we got to talking. I found out her name was Mary Anne, and she was the daughter of the town's chief banker. A week later I convinced her to go with me to the drive-in. We watched _Gone With The Wind, _and they did a darn good job on that movie_. _Her daddy didn't know about this date, so we waited a couple more weeks before I was to meet him. He took a liking to me in an instant. I don't reckon why.

"The next year eventually rolled around and Mary Anne and I were set to get married at the town church. The wedding was amazing, and Mary Anne was beautiful. We bought a little house in town and opened a food store. Things were going great, and then we found out Mary Anne was going to have a baby.

"December 7 of that year, though, was a day I'll never forget. Mary Anne was making breakfast, and we were listening to the radio say the news of the day. Suddenly everyone was frantic. Mary Anne ran in just as they said that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. She dropped the plate she was holding and began crying. We all cried that day.

"Two weeks later I found out I was being recruited to join the army. Mary Anne was left to run the store, and they shipped me off to Indonesia. We fought in a lot of battles, and the months rolled on. I nearly forgot about Mary Anne. All I had was a picture of her from our wedding. Everything else was at home.

"One day my commanding officer walked up and handed me a telegram. It said that Mary Anne had died giving birth to a son, Ezekiel James. They wouldn't let me go home, and Ezekiel was sent to a children's home. I never got to meet him. I heard that he had blonde hair and blue eyes like his mom.

"A few years later they finally let me go home, and I looked everywhere for my baby boy. I never did find him. I found out later he had been adopted by a family in California, and they later moved to Washington state. Mary Anne had been buried in the church cemetery with a beautiful marble tombstone. I went on with my life, every day thinking about that girl with the blonde curls I had met in the general store, and I wondered what my son looked like. I knew he'd look like his mother, the same blonde curls and blue eyes, but I hoped he had inherited my personality instead of his mother's scrutiny of every living thing." The man finished and looked at the boy, who found himself tearing up.

"Here's a picture of her, the one I had with me during the war." The man pulled out a worn leather wallet and retrieved a black and white picture of a girl in a white dress, holding flowers, with obviously blonde hair. The boy stared in shock.

The girl in the picture looked exactly like the one he had been searching for.

The door suddenly opened and a gust of cold air blew in. The man whistled.

"Now that's a nice car." He said. The boy turned to look, first at the onyx sports car in the parking lot that he couldn't name to save his life, and then to the girls who were just walking in. One was about as tall as him, with long dark brown hair and brown eyes, wearing obvious designer clothes. The other girl had short, spiky black hair and blue eyes, dressed in clothes many sizes too big. She was looking at her feet, but quickly looked up to glance around the restaurant.

Her gaze fell on the boy in the corner booth, next to the aged veteran.

She knew who he was in a second.

*

Meep, meep, MEEP! I'm excited, I got over my writer's block and my computer is alive! YAY!


	8. Found

**Song for Chapter: **_The Kids Aren't Alright, by The Offspring_

**Chapter 7: **_Found_

The boy turned around to see the girl with the incredibly short obsidian hair staring at him. He saw a faint hint of blonde in the roots of the hair, and her sapphire eyes – which he thought he'd never see again – let him know who she was in a second. The moment they saw each other, all their plans, their careful alibis, everything, vanished into thin air, disappearing with the mist. Forgetting where he was, he ran over and hugged her, nearly tackling her in the process.

"Sam, you're alive! How…but…how…and…OMIGOD, YOU'RE ALIVE!" Freddie shouted as he crushed her. They were hugging each other, forgetting their former plans. The man in the back smiled, happy for the boy who had just found his lost girlfriend.

It is strange the way fate works. Our lives, woven into a tapestry of many colors, spelling out the history of humanity, somehow manage to meet at just the right time. Our plans change every minute of every day. We try to keep it on one path, but there are always going to be forks in the road. Places, people, hopes, dreams, jobs, cars, they all change. As humans, we say we hate change, and like to keep things on a path that never changes, a stone walkway to a church, so to speak, but time never stands still. It's the strange combination of fate and humanity and time that come together to make sure all things that should happen will.

The girl who had walked in after riding in a 2012 Koeningsegg CCX was the girl who everybody had assumed dead after she disappeared two years ago. Her face had become world famous as Samantha Elizabeth Puckett, the girl who would never age. But the girl who had driven her had bought her a new identity, and her name was now Samantha Roatan Carerra. She couldn't drive to save her life, and her rescuer had claimed that she was her schizophrenic blind-deaf-mute cousin from Argentina in order to protect her. She would end up getting her license eventually, with a new name and a new self. She'd have a high school diploma, and considering her rescuer's forging skills would probably have a degree in public speaking soon enough. There would be records to back it up, money for all the teachers to use in order for them to claim they had taught her, and if all else failed, she could just go to school as it is. She never would grow her hair out again, and it would always be short, and most likely black. After all, it was her long hair causing all this trouble.

The boy who said his name was Frederick Eric Brownstone was the same boy who had been on iCarly years ago. He was still known to the fans, to the media, to everybody, as Fredward "Freddie" Joshua Benson. The license listed him as an 18-year-old who had just celebrated, if that was a good word for it, his birthday exactly one week ago. Full rights to just walk away from the home he had known for 18 years. The story was that he had joined the army, but the people he had left knew better. They knew he had gone to Vegas to save her, the girl he had always risked everything for. He would get a new car soon, a Mercedes or a Volkswagen or a BMW, because he had gotten frustrated beyond belief with American cars. Never an Oldsmobile, however. None of them would dare get an Oldsmobile, for the memories of the 1979 Oldsmobile sedan, with faded red paint that had probably at one point been named something homey and traditional, like "Brick Red". He would get an engineering degree, something with technology, but school was at the bottom of his list, completely insignificant with everything that had happened.

To her, he was still Freddie. And to him, she was still Sam. No matter what their name was, what they looked like, what the media said, they were alive, they were well, and they had a multimillionaire summa cum laude graduate of Dartmouth, daughter of a famous neurosurgeon and a Nevada senator to protect their new identities.

Every day of every year, people whose lives meant almost nothing change so that they mean something. Those who aren't noticed get noticed. Those who were almost nothing become world famous for almost insignificant reasons. Some people are already at the top, and they have nothing left to do except try to stay there. And some people will try forever to get to the top, but never succeed. Some do by accident.

The girl who had saved Samantha would blame it on coincidence. By leaving the party early, she had been able to drive down the road Sam just happened to be walking on. She was rich, that was sure considering she drove a Koenigsegg CCX, the $2.5 million dollar Swedish sports car, but money didn't mean much to her unless it was being put to a good cause. For unknown reasons, cars for her were a good cause. She was intelligent enough to succeed, and had graduated Summa Cum Laude from both her high school and Dartmouth college at 21 years old with an engineering degree, and was well on her way to getting a medical degree. Her parents were deeply involved with everything, her mother being a top-of-the line neurosurgeon for the city hospital, and her father being a senator who would probably run for governor soon. She would say to everyone that her name was Alex, nothing too complicated, but her full name was Alexandria Micah Rosse-Bermejo.

The people whose lives had been supporting characters in this drama that had folded out would always be there. Carly Shay would become an actress in some romantic comedy after a couple of years. She'd win awards and always remember Sam as she had been at 16. Spencer Shay would sell a piece of art so perfect that it would win him millions. He would meet the girl of his dreams and they'd get married, live in a 2-story house with white trim, a picket fence, and a flawless green yard. Michael Clarkson would become a reporter for CNN, reporting many important stories. Eventually one day he'd get married to Carly. Sam's mother would be released from jail, they'd apologize, and all would be forgotten.

Everything would go to plan. Nothing would be missing anymore. Nothing would go missing ever again, if they were lucky.

*

Carly typed as quickly as she could, trying to figure out where Freddie would have gone. The people in the school hallway passed her by, oblivious to the 18-year-old typing on the Apple laptop, nonchalantly eating a bag of Fritos. But they did notice, however, when a frantic, hyper blonde boy ran in, holding a copy of the New York Times.

Michael ran down the hallway, looking for Carly, holding a newspaper. He tripped and fell, right at her feet. Carly looked up, startled. Michael held up the newspaper, showing her the bold headline.

"He found Sam, just like he said he would. The story was changed quite a bit. But they sent me an email explaining everything. Good use of Photoshop. Hmm, I wonder how much that Alex girl paid the police and reporters to fabricate this." Michael held up the newspaper. Despite the negative headline, Carly smiled, knowing the truth behind it.

**Girl Missing for 2 Years Found Dead in California Hotel**

It said a maid had found Sam in a hotel room, murdered by Jason, who was also there. It showed a picture of Sam, 18 years old and smiling. Eternally young, or so they thought.

"The email said there would be a really elaborate story that said Sam would be dead, Freddie would be in a mental hospital for schizophrenia, Jason would be arrested, and some multimillionaire 21-year-old would be killing that Oldsmobile." Carly scanned over the story, before coming to a quote.

"The girl apparently put up a huge fight, and there were signs that her murderer was beaten with a baseball bat."

Carly smiled.

"It must be so much fun hitting Jason over the head with a baseball bat!"

The two looked at each other and laughed.

All was right with the world.

*

A/N: You probably think this is finished, huh? Well, you're wrong. There's an epilogue!

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	9. Epilogue

**Song for Chapter: **_Her Eyes, _by Pat Monahan

**Epilogue**

_One Year Later_

"Ow…OW! Good God, Alex, I'm never letting you dress me again!" The girl with short black hair scolded as she was forced into a pair of too-small white stilettos. Alex sighed.

"Hey, you're the one who told me to do this, and I'm going to. Now stand still so I can finish with your dress!" Alex stood from her seat on the floor, where she was forcing the white stilettos on Sam's feet, and began lacing the lacy white corset. Sam rolled her eyes. Why on earth did she need a corset? She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as Alex continued to play fashion designer.

"Thank you! Now let me put your lipstick on for you. Good thing I saved it for last." Alex grabbed the ruby red lipstick off the counter and carefully put it on Sam's face.

"There. Now I'm done." Alex stepped back and smiled.

Sam was wearing a long white dress that probably would have looked more in place in the 18th century. Her black hair had been pinned to the top of her head, except for the two bangs that curled to the side of her face.

"You look so much better with black hair!" Alex complimented. She dragged Sam to the door and threw it open. Alex's father stood there – the public story was that Sam's real father had died in a civil war and that Alex's parents adopted her. The true story was more complicated than that.

"Remember, Sammy, just keep your eyes on Freddie and try not to trip." Alex said. She handed Sam the bouquet, took another look at her "adopted" sister, and squealed, then dashed off, her sky blue dress flying out behind her.

Alex opened the double doors and walked quickly to her place with the other bridesmaids. She smiled widely, and Sam felt herself blush. Freddie stood at the end of the aisle, his brown hair in a ponytail. He looked like he was about to burst with happiness when he saw Sam.

Samantha Roatan Carerra walked down the aisle and stood at the altar. The vows were said, and she and Freddie carefully repeated them. If it weren't for Alex's squeals, she probably would have forgotten the most important line.

"Do you take each other as long as you both shall live?" the preacher said. Sam smiled.

"I do."

"I do." Freddie echoed.

Freddie pulled Sam close for their first kiss as a married couple. Then they realized there were people there, and turned to see the dozens of people who had managed to come: Spencer, Carly, Michael, Mrs. Puckett, Rodney, Ms. Briggs, Gibby, Kirby, all the people who knew the real story behind it all. She smiled and looked out over the crowd, and, for the first time since the kidnapping, forgot all about Jason. But one thing did manage to come to the front of her mind, and it took a lot of effort not to laugh, though she didn't know why it entertained her.

Sam's name had changed for the third time that year.

*

A/N: Thank you all for reading this story. You've put up with my random disappearances, writer's block, sometimes odd ideas, and you stuck with me all during this. As you may or may not know, this is the first story I've finished – I'm not counting the Game Show or Six Bullets, because the first was in script and the latter of the two was very short. And now, for the rest of my thanks to other people.

To Joey, my boyfriend, for understanding all my little rants.

To Kaley, Sabrina, and Sara, my "daughters". All of them have listened to my shouting at various times, and Kaley's giving me an awesome dress, so that's why she's first of the three.

To all the bands I listened to while writing this song, for providing me inspiration, and because The Offspring is friggin' awesome!

To Josh, Kaley's ex-boyfriend, who as you may know died two months ago, and all stories will have a bit of inspiration taken from him and Kaley.

And lastly, to Gabby, my best friend, for understanding what this means to me personally, for providing me with very odd ideas, and for being my "Backup Writer". I love you, Gabby! Nobody needs to ask who Alex is based on!

~Laila


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